The Writing of My Immortal
by MyImmortalTrolls
Summary: One day, one fanfiction was written. A fanfiction so bad it became a meme that, while kind of dead, still exists today. However unanswered questions still remain. Who wrote My Immortal? Who was Tara Gilesbie? Was she trolling? Why was this fanfic written? Follow Eliza as she falls down the rabbit hole leading to Tara and the creation of a legend. This is purely a work of fiction.


**Chapter 1**

 **Disclaimer** : This is completely a work of fiction. I am not the author of My Immortal nor do I know who wrote it; this story is simply my fictional

representation of what could have happened in the writing of My Immortal. This should not be taken as truth or a realistic representation of the events

leading up to the legendary work of fanfiction garbage. This a story not the truth.

* * *

There is time at the edge of twilight when the light outside my window is only a silvery memory of the day. The shadowy yet magical time when the world

enters a dreamlike state; anyone can be anything or do whatever he or she dreams.

I sat with my knees drawn tightly up against body and huddled against the back of my overwhelmingly large bed. A quiet mist of the noise from my parent's

party rose upstairs through my open window. The buttery fabric of my silk dress felt like poison hugging my skin yet I did not shed the finery lest I be called

downstairs and find myself unprepared to delicately fold my hands, smile, and pretend to exhibit the spitting image of grace.

My parents had spoiled me all their lives, and they could; our family owned a large fortune. However, their way of spoiling me had little to do with my actual

interests or wants. When they bought our current house, they made sure I had a balcony attached to my room just like them. I have a terrible fear of

heights. When I needed new shoes for school, I asked politely for a pair of converse only to find designer high heels sitting on my fairy-like pale pink canopy

bed. I broke my ankle the first day I wore them because, let's just say, heels are not for school. My friends were carefully background checked by the maids

and the butlers paid off guys to be my boyfriends until I figured out the trick and stopped dating or befriending people altogether.

My parents had decided long ago that I, Elizabeth Silvia Gregory known to the world as Elizabeth would attend law school at Harvard or Yale, no other

school was acceptable. I would follow in my father's footsteps and climb the political ladder. However, while I kept my grades up, it was a struggle for me, and

a fancy school like Harvard or Yale would be too much for someone average like me. I enjoyed writing, creative writing, not technical writing.

All I wanted was something to call my own something that wasn't pink and lacy or sparkly or gauzy or gold or silver or a pastel fairy princess dreamworld.

My room had golden butterflies tacked to all the walls. The floors were whipped cream. The closet brimmed with fancy and beautiful silks and fluff. My bed

had a fluffy pale pink comforter with a sparkling gauze overlay above the canopy. Pink and gold curtains lead to the highest balcony in our fancy, expensive

neighborhood. None of it felt like mine.

A soft knock on the door propelled me from my bed and to the cluttered desk set aside for my schoolwork. A faceless maid entered and muttered just loud

enough to catch my ears, that my presence downstairs had been requested. I shot the woman small, warm smile and graciously thanked her for the news.

She bowed, giving me an uncomfortable, disgusting feeling crawling up my skin. I rushed to the bathroom across from my bed a ways to check that my face

remained colored, hair perfectly coiffed, and dress smoothed. I looked like a lifeless china doll, perfect.

I descended the staircase from my side of our massive house in my contraband flats. The music swelled as I neared the source. My feet padded along the

marble flooring tensing every muscle in my body so as not to trip or slide. I entered the rose scented parlour at the side of the house as the soft voices of

wealthy pretending they lived in some Elizabethan palace in England chatted away. A boy in a sharp suit approached me from a corner of the room. I warily

examined him not trusting his perfectly crafted smile and smoothed back hair.

"I take it you must be the young Ms. Gregory. Elizabeth was it? Pleasure to meet you, my name is Justus, but you may call me Justin. May I call you Lizzie

as your parents have referred to you?" His assertive nature of conversation rolling from one phrase to the next rather than waiting his turn through a careful

waltz of floral language took me aback. I muttered a 'yes' before I even processed the word had passed through my lips.

The boy smiled at me, offering his arm, and although a voice at the back of my head screamed to remember my lack of good looks and my parent's

trickery; something about him though endeared me to him.

He took me to a girl at the back of the room who looked a bit like him. She smiled at me, her freckled face spreading into a ray of sunshine. She looked to

be my age yet she and the boy both looked far more vibrant than anything else in my pastel world; they seemed different in a refreshing way.

"Hi Eliza my name's Beatrice, but you can call me Bea." The girl stuck out her hand brazenly and again without even realizing it myself my hand acted on its

own and I shook hers.

Though they were new and should have been treated like some popular, new commodity, their bold manners seemed to drive off the other party guests,

and I loved it.

"Would you guys like to see my room." I murmured under the din.

Justin smiled, "lead the way Lizzie."

Bea and Justin followed behind me looking around at my house as we walked. We ascended the stairs and entered my room. As I pointed out the different

unnecessary amenities the pair wore matching frowns clearly understanding my plight. I continued, describing my daily, mundane life and the complaints I

harbored regarding my lack of 'me'. They whispered to each other just out of my hearing range.

"If you would like to stay the night and talk tomorrow I am sure one of the maids can prepare you a room near mine." I broke the silence between myself

and their private conversation.

Bea smiled her sunbeam smile at me, though I could see an empathetic gleam in her eyes, and nodded her head. "We have so much to tell you. It sounds like you could use some friends and live a little."

I laughed and nodded feeling for once someone had freed me from a lethargic trance I had been living in.

"I wish you could stay here forever," I sighed as they moved toward the door to leave. "So do we," I thought I heard Justin say as he closed my door after

Bea.

I threw myself excitedly onto my bed and snuggled under the covers not even bothering to remove my gown. I closed my eyes and felt hopeful for

tomorrow for the first time since I could remember. _New friends, new life_ I prayed in the quiet of my racing mind and fell into a fitful sleep full of forgotten

feelings and dreams.

* * *

 **AN** : Hello readers its Troll-chan back with probably my final fanfiction. This chapter introduced my ocs Eliza, Bea, and Justin. The next chapter will work more

on building up the world my characters live in and the meat of the story will begin in Chapter 3. I hope you stay with me throughout this story. I've already

finished plotting it out and I can promise unexpected twists to come. If you are interested in reading some troll fanfiction you can look at my other stories. As

stated in the disclaimer though My Immortal and its authoring are real events my story is just a fictional story I made up about its creation. Reviews, both

good and bad, are always appreciated and I hope you continue reading my story. Update schedule to be decided.

Troll-Chan ;3


End file.
